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Wednesday, March 21, 2012

First 250 Words Smash! #1

Most Wonderful Author: HNWMost Evil Critique Master: Sarah

I wasn’t alone – there was a presence in the night, a
definite other that lurked, hidden, between the silky black folds of an
almost unnatural twilight. I heard it whispering to me in the wind, felt it
touch my bare cheeks, tug at my hair, its breath against the back of my neck.
Standing in the center of the crossroads, the small tin box shaking my hands, I
didn’t know what was worse – being alone and isolated miles away from the protection
of my family, or being in the presence of this other. I certainly didn’t
want to be out there with it, but I had no other choice – this was my only
opportunity to set things right, to fix everything, and put it all back
to the way it was. The way it should be.

Dad always told us we should never go to a crossroads at
midnight, because that’s where the Devil waits to trick foolish people into
selling their souls. But I knew exactly what was I doing – the Devil couldn’t
trick me if I was willing to give my soul to him. He could have it – it
was broken and ripped up anyways. I was willing to do whatever was necessary to
put things back to the way they were, to stop the dawn from approaching.

Sinking to my knees onto the cold and frozen earth, I
clawed a hole in the dirt just big enough to fit the tin.

Strong Points –

Intrigue. Yes, I felt it. There
is a sense of something looming, and an effortless sense of voice and
character. I like the feeling of this intangible yet palpable second being,
gives this sense of something WATCHING her, and I like that creeping feeling.

The question of “What the heck is happening?” is generated. The
scene is set up without delay. The reader moves right into action without confusion,
and the action doesn’t feel like action for the sake of action. In less than
250 words, I’ve got a subtle sense of the surroundings, the character, and the
situation. This is a good intro.

Some Tips –

The points that I think need work
are also some of the things that I like best, things that I think could be made
even better.

I like that we’re feeling this omnipotent
second presence, but try to stay away from words like “I felt” and “I heard” or
“I saw” or “I tasted”. Words like these remove your reader one step away from
the sensations you’re creating. You want to suck in your reader as deep into
your narrative as you can, and any words that remind them they’re reading a
story will hinder your intent to do so.

“I heard it whispering to me in
the wind” is stronger as “It whispered to me in the wind.” And, of course, you
can even take the phrasing further, get creative, really push it if you want
to. I’m sure you could sift through your whole manuscript and find a plethora
of these ticks. Challenge yourself to rework your sentences without them. You’ve got the skill in you, I can tell, it’s just a matter of really recognizing it.

The next thing: italics. There’re
lots. A heavy emphasis from italics is exhausting to read, and it’s actually better to use
no italics at all than too many.

One trick I use is that I put in all
the italics I think I need while I write, and then when I go back to reread, I
read the whole sentence without any italics. If the sentence’s meaning does not
change without the italicized word(s), you don’t need the italics.

As an example: “You took her
panties?” versus “You took her
panties?”

See the difference? The story
behind the two sentences is completely different.

The next thing: dashes. The same
rules apply. Dashes can do awesome things, like change the direction of action
or provide insight, and they’re fun for dialogue. However, too many, especially
when some sound like replacements for colons or semicolons, is not mustering
the potential of the almighty dash.

Instead, try putting periods in
exchange for dashes (or periods for semicolons, because semicolons give me hives and it’s my personal mission to eradicate them). Your
very first sentence, for example, would stand so much stronger as simply: “I
wasn’t alone.”

Bam.

First sentence.

How could you turn that down?

There’s so much power in brevity.
The last sentence of that paragraph is a good example of both brevity and, coincidentally, the
best usage of a fragment: “The way it should be.” I, the reader, want to know
what that means. What is the way it should be? What’s going on?!

Would I Keep Reading?

Most likely. The beginning does
read a bit prologue-y to me, but I would most likely read until the conflict is
resolved, unless the more substantial premise of the story drags me right in.
In this case, I would certainly test the waters and continue further.